<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>If I didn't know better by feyfallen</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431873">If I didn't know better</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyfallen/pseuds/feyfallen'>feyfallen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, No Beta We Die Like Ascians, Overworking, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sass, Sassy Ascian, Slow Romance, may turn into more</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:41:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyfallen/pseuds/feyfallen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not that I am one to provide ‘friendly’ commentary, Exarch, but perhaps you should get some sleep?” </p><p>It was a simple enough statement but from an Ascian, nothing was ever simple. The Exarch chose to ignore the statement, watching as the Warrior and their party moved further into the Greatwood. Until a moment ago, the Ascian had been with this party, but decided to take his leave when the Night’s Blessed arrived.  </p><p>Thus, making him the Exarch’s problem now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I suck at summaries.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Not that I am one to provide ‘friendly’ commentary, Exarch, but perhaps you should get some sleep?”</p><p>It was a simple enough statement but from an Ascian, nothing was ever simple. The Exarch chose to ignore the statement, watching as the Warrior and their party moved further into the Greatwood. Until a moment ago, the Ascian had been with this party, but decided to take his leave when the Night’s Blessed arrived.</p><p>Thus, making him the Exarch’s problem now.</p><p>“Not that I care what you partial souls do to keep yourself ‘functioning,’ but something tells me the part of you that is still mortal is waning on the edge of collapse,” Emet continued. The Exarch rolled his eyes beneath his hood and waved his staff, dissipating the image on the Occular's mirror. It took too much energy, concentration to hold the image of the party, so far from the tower, and Emet’s appearance was helping none.</p><p>Turning away from the mirror, now crystalline and dormant, he started for the door, stepping passed the Ascian with little interest. The Exarch had determined that entreating the bringer of chaos to commentary oft ended in argument and frustration, so he had long since opted to just ignore the Garlean form until he left with boredom. Though, it appeared today Emet was being more stubborn.</p><p>“Cold shoulder again? If I didn’t know better, I would say you didn’t like me,” Emet hummed, following him as he left the Occular, heading for the stairs out into the Crystarium proper. The tap of his own sandals was mirrored by that of the leather boots Emet so fondly wore.</p><p><em>And here I thought you knew everything,</em> the Exarch almost said, but bit his tongue and shook his head tiredly. Emet’s suggestion of sleep did come with truths, he had been pushing himself hard, harder still due to the ever-growing threat of Eulmore and Vauthry’s rage. Fresh air would do him good, he decided. Perhaps a walk of the gardens, or a visit to the Crystalline Mean. But not sleep, not yet. There was too much to do. So he walked, slowly and purposefully, and soon enough, he heard the distinctive sound of a rift opening behind him, the smell of dust and aether, an annoyed huff, and silence. Only then, hand on the door of the tower, did the Exarch look behind him to confirm Emet had truly left.</p><p>Satisfied, he pushed the door open, nodding to the guards on the other side. He smoothed his robes as he descended the stairs, pausing only to peer at a shoebill perched on one of the stoneworks near the Exedra. Curious thing, the Exarch thought. He had only seen shoebills out in Eulmore. He shook his head, dismissed the oddity, and walked on.</p><p>--</p><p>His wandering had carried him up to the towers, facing out into the purple fields and tree line of Lakeland. The sun was setting, a sight he was still growing used to, and the dim lights of the Crystarium lanterns had not yet been lit. In the dimness of the world, he felt a sense of calm, momentary peace. He knew it was a fleeting thing, not something that was truly there given the growing concerns with the Warrior and the meddling of one Emet-Selch. Still, he savored the brief moment of calm as he stood upon the tower, peering out into the world. Despite the simple stance he held, the seeming idle gaze he held, he was working. Searching. Reading aether, listening to the world around him. Though not as gifted as Urianger or Y’shtola, he had learned a thing or two in his age, as well as through his experiences within the Crystarium. From where he stood, he saw his dear Lyna marching out toward Fort Jobb to patrol for Sineaters. He saw citizens milling about before retiring for the true night. He heard the wind by his ears, the rustle of the trees, the smell of warm aether.</p><p>And a....bird?</p><p>The Exarch blinked and turned, following the scent of feathers. His nose had not lied; there was indeed a bird perched not far from him, preening itself on the tethers of the flags. As though it noticed him looking, the bird stopped and turned to face him.</p><p>A shoebill. The same shoebill?</p><p>The Exarch peered skeptically at the bird. It was, indeed, the same one he had spotted on the stoneworks. He was not entirely certain how he knew, but he just did. If he was not so drained, so spent, he would have believed the bird to be following him, watching him. But two instances does not a stalker bird make and the Exarch dismissed the thought with a quiet chuckle. Somewhere over Lakeland, bells tolled with the time, and the Exarch knew it was time to head back to the tower. It was high time he checked in with the Warrior of Light and also to check on Emet’s meddling. With how little the Ascian had bothered him this day, he was not entirely convinced the Garlean hadn’t found some place to sleep.</p><p>Sighing, the Exarch turned away from Lakeland and started for the stairs. His hand met the railing, his foot not yet over the threshold of the first step, when the world suddenly, violently turned sideways. He gripped his head, and tried to steady himself; of all the times for this to happen, it had to happen now? The Exarch stumbled, but unable to catch himself, he tumbled forward. He groped blindly for purchase upon the railing but with no avail, and found himself tumbling gracelessly down the stairs onto the first landing. He barely registered his roll coming to a stop before the nagging darkness at the back of his mind rushed forward, unconsciousness threatening to overtake him swiftly. He managed to roll himself to his stomach before the wave hit him again and he felt his body grow heavy. As he slipped away, he could have sworn he heard the sound of leather boots thudding down the stairs toward him.</p><p>--</p><p>He did not know how long he was unconscious, nor how long he had been laying on the landing. What he did know, slowly as he returned to the waking world, that he was not on the landing anymore. He was not even on the guard tower, or the stairs, but in a....bed?</p><p>The Exarch pushed himself up, wincing from the bruises he could feel forming from his trip down the stairs. Blinking slowly, he took in the room around him, surprised to find he was in the Crystal Tower once more, in his own private chambers. However, the confusion was pushed aside; clearly, someone had seen him fall, or he had been discovered during watch. He sniffed the air, the scent of chamomile and honey lingering in the space. Someone had made tea? He smiled fondly as his eyes settled on a pot of teapot steeping on the table; Lyna. Lyna must have found him. She always made chamomile tea to share with him during their meetings. He heard footsteps and turned toward the door, a smile on his face as he prepared for the scolding from the Vii.</p><p>The smile quickly was erased as the door opened.</p><p>“....Emet-Selch....” the Exarch sighed.</p><p>“Oh good, you are awake. Here I thought you had killed yourself on a staircase. What a disappointment that would have been. Whatever would I have told your precious Warrior of Light?” Emet began as he walked toward the table. He unceremoniously deposited himself in one of the chairs. “Though, if you were trying to die in a dramatic fashion, might I next time suggest throwing yourself from the tower. You would be much more successful than putting your luck in your neck hitting the stairs at a proper angle to snap whatever bones you have left.”</p><p><em> You truly just enjoy hearing yourself talk....</em> The Exarch sighed again and swung his feet over the side of the bed, falling once more into the routine of ignoring the Ascian. The Ascian, however, had other ideas.</p><p>“Now, now,” Emet said, rising suddenly and with speed the Exarch hadn’t expected. No sooner had the Exarch stood up did he feel Emet’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down to sit on the bed. The Exarch tried again to stand, with similar results. Emet held him firmly.</p><p>This was new.</p><p>“With all due respect, Ascian, I have work I must do,” the Exarch told, trying, and failing, for the third time to rise. The Exarch winced at the loud snap of fingers next to his ear, and soon found himself eye to eye with Emet. Emet had so graciously magicked the chair mere ilms from them to under his backside, which he so elegantly now slouched in. His other hand remained firmly on the Exarch’s shoulder.</p><p>“Your work can wait, Exarch. I am sure your Warrior will be happier to know I have prevented you from working yourself to death. If I was not on your side, I would have left you on that landing, drooling like a buffoon,” Emet tutted. Beneath his cowl, the Exarch rose a brow. So, Emet had been the one to bring him back to the tower? Interesting.</p><p>“If I did not know better, I would think you genuinely cared about my health,” the Exarch said before he could stop himself. So much for ignoring and silence. Emet finally took his hands away from the Exarch’s shoulders to hold his heart in mock pain.</p><p>“You wound me with your words,” Emet hissed in fake pain. Again, the Exarch rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Ah yes, how bored you would be without your fickle entertainment,” the Exarch returned, leaning away from the Ascian as he brought his legs up to sit cross-legged.</p><p>“Come now, you are more to me than entertainment,” Emet said with a wave of his hand. The comment seemed to shock Emet just as much as it did the Exarch, and the Exarch found himself at a momentary loss for words as Emet seemed to backpedal.</p><p>“In the sense that you are merely a means to an end, of course. What with the Crystal Tower and your rift walking abilities and-” Emet said quickly but the Exarch had noticed...something? Had he seen a hint of true emotion?</p><p>Certainly not. Impossible. But maybe, had Emet showed him...</p><p>“-and after all, you make it easier to track our lovely warrior with all your spying,” Emet finished. The Exarch bristled, drawn back from his thoughts by such a brash statement.</p><p>“I am not-” the Exarch started, but growled in frustration. He did not have the energy for that argument. “Fine. I am spying.” Emet started to say something, finger up to continue the argument when he realized the Exarch had agreed with him.</p><p>“There is no fun in you agreeing with me,” Emet pouted. Now, the Exarch smiled.</p><p>“But I thought I was more than just entertainment for you. Would agreement not bring you joy?” the Exarch tried. That earned a sneer and the Ascian stood up briskly.</p><p>“You have soured the mood,” Emet hissed.</p><p>“I was not aware there was one,” the Exarch returned. Emet gave no answer, merely glowered at him before turning on his heels and walking out the door. Silence fell into the room, leaving the Exarch to muddle through their interaction. He tilted his head in contemplation. At the very least, he realized, he possibly now possessed a way to make Emet leave him be. He tucked away this knowledge and stood up slowly, walking to the table. He poured himself a cup of tea and grabbed a tome from the shelf. Flipping the tome open, he paused and looked up at the door where Emet had left.</p><p>“If I did not know better, Ascian, I would think you genuinely cared....”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emet continues to bother the Exarch, yet no one is surprised. A dream then comes to the Exarch as he relaxes, leaving him with more questions than answers. Emet, however, finds something lost.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a few days since the Exarch had used the scrying glass. He was too tired, he found, to hold a stable image of the Warrior and their party. It was probably for the best, after all, lest the Exarch be exposed for his spying. Not that he was the only one spying on the party, that was to be sure. And he could argue his intentions were much more peaceful than that of a certain Ascian.  </p><p>Said Ascian who was, once again, seeking entertainment from a certain crystalline being.  </p><p>“You are not even listening to a word I am saying, are you?” </p><p>The Exarch’s head snapped up and he turned, looking at Emet-Selch, who was until a moment ago, slouched against one of the supports of the Ocular, talking about Twelve knows what.  </p><p>“I would be lying if I were to say I heard half of what you were talking about,” the Exarch admitted. Emet shrugged, appearing to ponder if he should start over on whatever he was talking about. </p><p>“And here I thought you were interested in Allag and all I had to offer,” Emet taunted. The Exarch rolled his eyes and stood up from where he had been reading. He had a feeling Emet had been hoping to catch a glimpse of the Warrior through the glass. When that failed, he decided on other means of annoyance. </p><p>“Yes, I am interested in Allag. However, you have a knack for spouting off about Garlamald, Ronka, and other empires that it sometimes becomes tedious to use you as a reference,” the Exarch told. Emet snorted, a wave of his hand as though proud of this fact. “I am not interested in hearing how you sired yet another nation of blood-starved beasts.” </p><p> </p><p>“And yet you are so interested in Allag, of all things,” Emet taunted back. The Exarch sighed; he had walked himself into that corner. He tucked the tome under his arm and started for his private chambers. With the coming of night to Lakeland, it was harder of him to lose track of time in his studies, and he had promised Lyna that he would be better at taking care of himself. It seemed the Ascian was curious to know where he was off to, the padding of leather soft as he heard Emet walk after him. Clearly Emet was not ready to finish their conversation as he was.  </p><p>“Running away so soon, Exarch?” Emet tried. The Exarch did not even bother to turn as he opened his door and spoke. </p><p>“If you call going to sleep running away, then yes, I am. I do believe you are an expert in this form of running away,” the Exarch returned. Emet huffed. “Be my guest to stay and muddle. I am not sure what entertainment a sleeping mortal will bring.”  </p><p>Not that the Exarch wanted Emet around as he slept. He doubt he would sleep until he was certain the Ascian had left to go sew chaos or what have you. Still, he was surprised when Emet did not leave. He found himself hesitating on removing his cowl when he felt Emet’s presence near. </p><p>“I did not expect you to be a voyeur,” the Exarch said, finally turning to look at Emet, whom had taken to looming near his door.  </p><p>“Hardly. I was just curious if you slept in those curtains you call clothing,” Emet said with a flip of his hand. “You are odd, so I would not put it past you to sleep in something even more uncomfortable than the garb you are currently wearing. Though, looking at your hesitation, I should have expected you to be shy.” </p><p>The Exarch was glad for his hood to be up. If not, he knew the Ascian would be mocking him for the bristle and the grit of teeth. </p><p>“I suppose requesting common decency of not having to change clothing in front of others makes me shy,” the Exarch said, finally pulling the hood down as he began fiddling with the clasps and straps of his outfit. He heard Emet mumble something, his ear turning toward the noise, but he did not pick it up. He decided to try and pretend the Ascian was not there. His mind craved rest and he was not going to delay it anymore because Emet-Selch decided to once again meddle. He let the robe settle around his waist and reached for a long night shirt.  </p><p>“The crystal has taken less of you then I thought,” Emet said and the Exarch looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see Emet was considerably closer to him now.  </p><p>“So you will not grant me the common decency,” the Exarch returned, pulling the sleep shirt over himself. Only when he was sure he was covered did he let the rest of his robes fall. Even though he was covered, he still felt exposed around the prying eyes of the Ascian. He picked up his robes and smoothed them, adjusting the shirt slightly so his tail could swing about. He scratched behind his ear and stretched. “Though color me more surprised about your observation of the crystallization. Are you concerned, Emet-Selch?” </p><p>Emet barked a laugh. </p><p>“Hardly. I merely would hate to have an object of my fascination turn to stone before I can get what I want out of it.” Emet stared at the Exarch expectantly, hoping for banter or a rise or something. Instead, he received a yawn.  </p><p>“Well, your <em> object </em> is trying to retire to sleep. If you want to stay in its good graces, you will give it peace,” the Exarch returned, walking to his bed. He sat down on his bed and looked at Emet. The Ascian tossed his head in frustration and turned, waving his hand as he departed. The smell of dust, aether, and ash alit his senses before the Ascian’s portal dissipated. The Exarch tilted his head. The smell of ash was new. He shook his head and lay himself down. Something to ponder for another time.  </p><p>--- </p><p><em> It was that dream again.  </em> </p><p><em> The Exarch stood in an expansive city street. Around him, people, things?  </em> <em> Were </em> <em>  running. Shielding their heads as they screamed. The world seemed to be burning, meteors falling through the sky and landing about them. Building shattered. Tall spires fell. Gardens burned. Monsters, abominations pushed through the rubble, after those who did not fall to the wrath of nature. The Exarch found himself running to...somewhere. Anywhere.  </em> </p><p><em> He did not know this city, did not know this place, but he knew he had to run.  </em> </p><p><em> “To the Bureau, to the Architect!” one to the people, the robed giants running near him yelled. The Exarch did not understand what the figure meant but he ran the direction they had pointed. Despite his size, despite his small form, he kept pace with the running figures. Somehow.  </em> </p><p><em> The ground shuddered, and he found himself falling. He collapsed to the hard stone as people fell around him, a meteor having collided with the building near their path, sending debris against the road. The Exarch pushed himself to his feet, the fire around him robbing him of his voice as he coughed. This was new. The dream normally ended here. But it continued. </em> </p><p><em>  A shout echoed through the street and he saw another building start to topple.  </em> </p><p><em> “ </em> <em> Hyth </em> <em> !” he heard the shout again. His head turned, seeing a robed figure, a red mask waving at him. “ </em> <em> Hythlodaeus </em> <em> , this way! Hurry!”  </em> </p><p><em> Hythlodaeus </em> <em> ? The name was familiar.... The voice calling to him was familiar. </em> </p><p><em>  “Quickly! Before the building falls!” </em> </p><p><em> The Exarch turned and began to run toward the figure. However, he stumbled again and  </em> <em> heard the sound of </em> <em>  breaking glass. He saw debris falling, felt the ground shudder. The robed figure was running toward him as a towering piece of building fell upon between them, crumbling down upon his form. </em> </p><p><em> “ </em> <em> Hythlodaeus </em> <em> !” </em> </p><p>-- </p><p>“Hades!”  </p><p>The Exarch woke with a scream, arm outstretched, reaching for the robed figure, the form that had been in his dreams. He was covered in sweat, his body trembling. With shaking hands, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the glass of water there. He drank it greedily, trying push down the feeling of fear, of loss. Hades? Hythlodaeus?  </p><p>He thought he smelled ash. Ash, dust, and aether.  </p><p>He set the glass aside and lit a candle, using the pooling light to retrieve his diary and a quill.  </p><p>“Hades.....Hythlodaeus....” he said to the shadows.  </p><p>This had been the fourth time this dream had come to him, but this time was the first he had heard the names. The name Hades still sat on his tongue, the name Hythlodaeus ringing in his mind. His body felt drained, more tired than when he had gone to sleep. How long had he been asleep before the nightmare had come? Just where was that city? Was that a Rejoining? One of the Rejoinings the Ascians had succeeded in causing? Or was that a future? Who was Hades? Who was Hythlodaeus? The Exarch did not possess the gift of the echo, yet he felt like he was living Hythlodaeus’s memories. The Exarch quickly wrote down all he could remember before the dream became muddled again, resigning himself to talk to Urianger and maybe Y’Shtola about this reoccurring vision, if they would listen. He stared at the page as the ink dried before tired, red eyes peered into the darkness. He felt like someone was watching him. The name, Hades, wanted to leap off his tongue. But no sound came. The Exarch persuaded himself to not dwell on it. He closed the book and lay back down with a soft sigh. He willed himself to sleep. Body heavy, mind reeling, it came sooner than he expected. </p><p>--- </p><p>Emet-Selch remained motionless in the dim of the room, watching for far too long as the Exarch slept. He had known that there was something different, something unique about the Exarch, but never could he have dreamed.... </p><p><em> “Hades!” </em> </p><p>When the Exarch had cried out that name, Emet almost leapt from the shadows, almost dropped to his knees at the Exarch’s side. He had known, oh had he had known. And now he had his confirmation. </p><p><em> “Hades..... </em> <em> Hythlodaeus </em> <em> ....”   </em>The Exarch had said to no one, yet the words, the names burned into Emet’s heart.  </p><p>But his feet had remained rooted. He did not come to his friend’s, his beloved’s side. He stood there and watched the Exarch tremble, pull himself together. He watched as the Exarch put the book down and lay himself back down upon the bed. Emet waited, watching for another long moment before he soundlessly walked to the side of the bed and sat. He watched the man’s chest rise and fall, the crystal glisten in the candlelight the Exarch had forgotten to extinguish.  </p><p>Emet raised his hand and reached out, wanting to touch the fine hairs of the Exarch’s head, his ears. Instead, the hand withdrew and snuffed out the candle. Wordlessly, Emet rose and departed from the room, calling forth a portal. Yet he lingered, looking back at the sleeping Exarch. </p><p><em> Oh  </em> <em> Hythlodaeus </em> <em> .... </em>  he thought, forcing himself to turn away and walk through the inky mist,  <em> Oh </em> <em>  my beloved, I have finally found you. Found what is left of you.... </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am back on my bullshit. I hope to write more but we will see. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Exarch starts to question if he is doing the right thing, and if he should risk trusting a certain Ascian. Yet it seems right to do so....<br/>---</p><p>I admit, this one jumps around a little but I still think it works. I...had a lot of emotions on this one. </p><p>Enjoy my dabble into this disaster pair.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Just what are you willing to sacrifice to ensure the future? </em> </p><p>The Exarch looked up from his book, the thought lingering in the recesses of his mind. Four more times before the Warrior and their party returned from the Greatwood did the dream dream, come, the burning city collapsing around him. Each time he woke with a panic, a name on his lips and a void in his heart.  </p><p>He had since stopped sleeping.  </p><p>“Exarch?” </p><p>He blinked tiredly and looked around himself, closing the book he had not been reading, realizing where he was, what he had been doing. Alphinaud was looking at him, concern writ upon his young face. The Exarch rubbed his face beneath the cowl. </p><p>“You are not well. Urianger and Y’Shtola said...” Alphinaud started but he waved his hand to dismiss it. He rose from his seat with a soft bow. </p><p>“Tis nothing to worry about, I assure you, Alphinaud,” the Exarch said, coming to his side. The young Elezen (Elf, here, he reminded himself), was not convinced but he said nothing.  </p><p>“We have all gathered in the Ocular. Will you join us?” </p><p>--- </p><p>So Hydaelyn was a primal, no different in rise than Zodiark, claimed the Ascian. Everything they did was for a primal and their salvation, their dreams, their goals were nothing more than a fools dream. </p><p>The Exarch was glad to have the cowl yet again so that his reaction was masked, hidden away as the guilt rose in him. Yet he pushed this down, finding strength in his voice, slamming his staff upon the Ocular floor to silence the squabble between the Scions and the Ascian.  </p><p>“You mean to make us doubt everything we have done, everything we have strived to complete,” he said crisply. Emet-Selch looked at him, starting to say something before he cut him off. “Our goal, our wont for salvation, this is not something unfamiliar to you. It is what you strive for, isn’t it, Ascian? What we are doing, what we strive to complete, is the same as what you strive for. In our mind, you are a villain with selfish goals. In your mind, we are nothing more than fragments performing the very same selfish deeds we see you doing. We sew our own sees of destruction and chaos, why can we not see everything we are doing is just harming!” </p><p>Thancred had raised his hand at some point to stop his speech, Alisaie and Alphinaud looked at each other, while the Warrior, Urianger, and Y’Shtola looked at him with great concern. </p><p>“But we refuse. We refuse to stop fighting. We will stop at nothing to ensure the future. <em> Our  </em>future,” he said, his voice softening. Silence fell in the Ocular as the words hit home. Once again, the Exarch felt tired; all he ever felt was tired. Now, hearing Emet speak as though everything they have ever done was the will of a primal, it bore too much upon him.  </p><p>Finally, Emet spoke again, eyes boring into the Exarch’s frame.  </p><p>“Just....what are you to speak so freely about all of you broken souls?” Emet demanded. “Who are you to think you understand my thoughts, my plight? You, who hide behind glamours and shadows while I stand with my heart laid bear!” The Exarch started to speak but Thancred stepped in front of him, between him and Emet. </p><p>“He is something you only dream of understanding,” Thancred all but shouted, hand going to his gunblade. Emet stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender.  </p><p>“Everything he does, does so for us, for the Crystarium, for the people of the First and the Source!” Alisaie cut in, trying to keep her own anger down.  The Exarch looked between them, shock coloring his features as they rose to defend him. Y’Shtola spoke next, but her voice held a different weight. </p><p>“This conversation is getting us nowhere,” she said sternly. Her gaze locked on Emet’s. The Ascian huffed and folded his arms. “If you wish to continue your verbal attack, know well I will not stop my comrades from opting for more physical blows. However, I think it is best that we take time to rest and gather our thoughts on the matter. After all, us sundered have much to ponder.” </p><p>“Tis best we proceed as thus,” Urianger agreed, resting his hand on Alisaie’s shoulder. Emet said nothing before vanishing in a pool of inky aether. The Exarch’s hand slid down his staff as the others gathered their thoughts in the silence.  </p><p>“I...will take my leave,” the Warrior finally said, “I need to rest. Or drown myself in ale...or both.”  </p><p>“I will join you,” Thancred said, stepping up to join them. Alisaie came too, whether they would allow her to or not. Alphinaud slipped out after them stating that someone had to make sure they made it back to the Pennants safely. The Exarch started to drift back into his thoughts, the memories when Y’Shtola spoke up. </p><p>“Though perhaps now is not the best time, Exarch, you said you had a pressing image you wanted to share with us?” </p><p>--- </p><p>Urianger and Y’Shtola had left hours later, both with their own theories of the Exarch’s mysterious vision. Urianger had lingered only briefly after Y’Shtola had left, a hand on his shoulder reassuringly as he spoke. </p><p>“Thee have not strayed from thy path and held thy oath. But thy burden thee do not have to bear alone. Stay strong, G’raha Tia,” the Astrologian had said, if not to remind him he had done so much already but to help him remember his own name. The Exarch had embraced the man before his departure, promising to call him if sleep eluded him again. No stranger to lies and hidden truths, Urianger had become a rock for the Exarch, a confidant. Still, he wished not to soil Urianger’s name in the end. After all, they both knew what was required of the Exarch in the end. Still- </p><p>“Er you take your leave of us for thy last journey, I will stand by and lend what strength I have to thee,” Urianger promised upon his departure.  </p><p>So then silence fell into the Ocular as night fell over the Crystarium. Once more, the Exarch found himself alone and at his desk, theorizing and researching, making notes and writing anything down that he felt might help the Crystarium after he was gone.  </p><p>The bells ticked by without a disturbance, until the Exarch found himself realizing he should attempt to sleep. Standing, the Exarch stretched tall and then screamed in shock. </p><p>Emet-Selch was perched on the chair across his study, silently reading. At the noise, he lazily looked up. </p><p>“I feared you had gone blind in your old age, not noticing me here,” the Ascian noted, closing the book. The Exarch found himself fumbling words, gaping as he tried to speak. How long had he been there? Had he said anything that would hinder the Scion’s progress by accident, revealed their plans simply because he hadn't seen the Ascian come in? Yet, before his words could form, Emet was continuing. </p><p>“I did not wish to disturb you. After all, you are a very busy man. I took the liberty to wait for your attention, though if I knew it was going to be several bells, I would have spoken up sooner.”  </p><p>The Ascian drew near him, placing his hands on his shoulders.  </p><p>“By the Twelve, you need to sleep,” he said idly, as though he was scolding a child.  </p><p>“Why are you here, Emet-Selch?” The Exarch finally said, though he made no move to push the Ascian away. He saw no point; after all, the Ascian could easily close the distance again. Instead, the Exarch found himself staring at the details of Emet’s coat, the leather worn from years of use.  </p><p>And smelling of Aether, Dust, and Ash. </p><p>“You have questions of me, do you not? Such peculiar dreams you have been having, yet no answers of just what you are seeing.” The Exarch pushed him away then, startled. Had he read his mind? </p><p>“You have been watching me sleep!” the Exarch stammered, going for his staff in a sudden desperation for grounding. Emet seemed unphased by such a reaction, though he did move faster than the crystalline guardian, yanking the staff away from him and out of reach. </p><p>“Now, now, you can be assured no harm has come of you. After all, despite the times I have watched you, you still are alive, are you not?” Emet stated, though he stepped away to keep his staff out of reach. “And I promise you no harm. I just would like to talk.” </p><p>The Exarch stopped grabbing for his staff and instead braced himself against the desk instead for stability. Emet genuinely looked concerned. </p><p>“If I didn’t know better-” the Exarch started. </p><p>“-I care about you,” Emet finished. The Exarch stared blankly at the Ascian. Was this a game to him? “I think.” </p><p>“You....think?” The Exarch questioned. “You...think you care about me?”  </p><p>“Let me say my piece,” Emet said, holding his staff out to him as though he was offering a gift.  </p><p>---- </p><p>Morning was creeping through the windows now. Emet-Selch sat across from him, a pot of tea between them. The Exarch looked into his cup as Emet drank his.  </p><p>“Of course, I have no way to explain to you what you are seeing,” Emet stated, “but you will have to trust me in assuring you that what you have seen is not the future.” </p><p>“I am seeing a past.”  </p><p>“Yes,” Emet said. It seemed like he wanted to say more but he kept himself quiet. </p><p>“Hades and Hythlodaeus...they are...were....people,” the Exarch stated.  </p><p>“Yes. They existed.” </p><p>“I do not possess Hydaelyn’s gift. How am I seeing these images?” the Exarch asked. Never did he think he would be so candidly speaking to an Ascian, let alone having tea with one.  </p><p>“I...have theories,” Emet said. </p><p>“Care to share?” </p><p>“No.” The Exarch sighed. It had been worth a shot.  </p><p>“Then...why are you telling me these things?” the Exarch asked. Emet set his cup down.  </p><p>“I want to be sure,” Emet told truthfully. <em> Lest I be wrong. Lest you not bear his soul.... </em> </p><p><em> “ </em>I suppose I cannot blame you. But if testing your theories will impede the Scions’ efforts to stop the Calamity, I will stand in your way.” </p><p>“I would have it no other way,” Emet said, standing. “You should sleep.” He pushed in his chair and then offered his hand to the Exarch. “Though I hope our chats do not end here.” </p><p>“I will think upon your offer,” the Exarch said calmly, taking the outstretched hand as he stood. It felt familiar. Safe.  </p><p>Impossible. </p><p>“Though I would hold off telling your group of misfit souls of our discussions. Lest their feeble brains break,” Emet muttered. He rolled his eyes; of course. Still, if he could gain information from the Ascian without harming the Scions... </p><p>“I will ponder if such is safe to do,” the Exarch said, though he found himself letting Emet guide him toward his bed chambers, let him help him get ready. This time, Emet turned away as he changed into his sleep garb. The Exarch sat on the edge of his bed and looked up at the Ascian looming near him. When he turned back, his face was twisted in thought. </p><p>“Pray...I test something, Exarch?” Emet asked. He furrowed his brow and cant his head.  </p><p>“By doing what, Ascian?” </p><p>“I fear you would say no if I told you. Trust me. I will not harm you, yet,” Emet promised. The Exarch liked those words little, but he sighed in resignation. </p><p>“I will be the judge of if it is harm. If I deem it so, I hope you are prepared to fight the Scions for your damage.” Emet rose his hands in surrender. “Go ahead.” </p><p>“Close your eyes,” Emet demanded. The Exarch rose a brow before Emet huffed and added “-please.” </p><p>The Exarch closed his eyes and let his breathing calm. He thought he heard Emet kneel down to his height, his ears following the sound and his tail twitching with slight concern. Yet pain did not come. Nothing happened, but the Exarch felt as though something was. As though Emet was incredibly close to him, his hand but a breath away. The Exarch kept his mind clear in fear that the Ascian was trying to read his mind. But then- </p><p>The briefest, lightest press of lips was felt against his own. Just before he could react, truly register what had happened, the space in front of him felt bear and he opened his eyes. Emet was standing to the side, hand to his mouth, eyes closed.  </p><p>“Emet-Selch-” </p><p>“No...not yet,” the Ascian said, “not...quite.” He opened his eyes and looked the Exarch with a sadness the Mystel had never seen before. “But...it...you.” Emet shook his head and started for the door.  </p><p>“What do you mean-” the Exarch challenged, rising, starting after him. “Not yet? Not quite?” What was the Ascian on about? </p><p>“Just sleep,” Emet replied with a wave of his hand. The Exarch felt his legs grow heavy mid stride and his knees collided with the floor. Emet was beside him, lifting him gently back into bed. “Just sleep. Just sleep...and wake to a better future.” The world faded into a warm, empty void as Emet’s hands left him upon his bed, drawing away.  </p><p><em> The future is where your destiny awaits. Perhaps....Our </em> <em>  destiny </em> <em> ... </em> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>